


help me help you

by orphan_account



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Crying, Developing Relationship, Emotionally Repressed, Hints of Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Big Boss/Ocelot (Metal Gear), Implied One Sided Past Kazuhira Miller/Big Boss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Romantic Tension, Self-Hatred, Undressing, implied transgender character, inner turmoil, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23796634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kaz knows too much, but it's his duty to. He's always shouldering more and more and some days it looks like he's going to collapse.Snake decides to help him with that, because that's what any comrade would do.
Relationships: Kazuhira Miller/Venom Snake
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	help me help you

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over the span of two months. This is my third rewrite and I'm so exhausted from writing this that I'm surprised I finished it at all. This is also horribly self indulgent.  
> Special thank you to my friends for proof reading and reviewing my work.

Questioning Ocelot wasn’t necessarily  _ easy _ , not that Ocelot wouldn’t give him answers. It was more so the apprehensiveness Kaz felt at it all, the way he hoped he was wrong and that he was just being paranoid. Unfortunately for him, Kaz has a habit of being right.

It dawns on him after a while that he’s not really surprised. He’s more so tired, exhausted in a way he hasn’t felt for a while. The mental exhaustion, he could deal with and the physical exhaustion he had to work through anyway, but this felt like a loss of faith. Ocelot, as much as he was a god damned bastard with nothing better to do than lick the floor Boss walked on, was not too different from Kaz. They were both deeply loyal at one point and admired the legend, one more successful in his pursuits than the other (not that Kaz would ever admit to rejection) but they were still, at their core, just pawns of Boss’s game the same way the medic was. 

The core difference was that if Big Boss asked Ocelot to jump, the Russian bastard would lap up his words and ask how high. Kaz had always sacrificed for Boss, without being asked to, but after an arm and a leg Kaz doesn’t feel like sacrificing anything else anymore. There was nothing left to give but his humanity, and at this point he wonders if Big Boss has any of that left.

He lingers around the office for some time, breathing in the salty air of Seychelles as the sun lowered on the horizon. It was nothing compared to the sunsets of Costa Rica, but it would do for now. His shoes squeaked slightly against the wet concrete of Mother Base and he almost forgot it had rained earlier, even though some of the new recruits wouldn’t stop complaining about the heat. It felt meaningless, learning new names and remembering old ones when in reality this was all just a farce, playing pretend so the real action could be taken behind the scenes. What did it matter anymore? 

No, he couldn’t think about that right now. He’s been clutching his cane so hard that it nearly digs into his skin but the spikes of pain that come in through his arm, through his shitty and crude prosthetic, and the rising pain in his chest don’t bother him at all. It’s something to focus on, to distract him from letting the world collapse around him. It burns like hell itself and Kaz can’t help but wonder if he is in some twisted version of hell after all. Maybe he died in Afghanistan and taking “Big Boss”‘s bright red bionic arm was his ticket to eternal damnation.

He’s started walking now, and as if on instinct his legs work towards an unclear direction. His mind goes at a faster pace than his body can, but he’s used to it: always dreaming, always making back-up plans for everything. Even when he was younger, he had a solution. Countless nights he had spent back in MSF prepared if Big Boss never came back and was lost in action, but also prepared to welcome him back home and expand MSF bigger and better, anything to keep it alive. It doesn’t click to Kaz until midway through his erratic pace that he’s shaking wildly, ignoring the salutes and stares of soldiers he bypasses. Part of him wants to have another fit, to scream at them to leave him alone like a child.  _ I am not your Commander.  _ But for once, he held it in, like a good proper soldier, the type that Big Boss would praise him for.

Somehow, it all comes back to Big Boss. It always does. He was inescapable even now that he was gone, doing God knows what in whatever place he decided to make a part of his world. Kaz doesn’t know where he’s going but he keeps on walking, holding back grunts from the pain of his shit prosthetic. Did he know? Did he ever wonder what the consequences of his actions could be? No, that wasn’t how Big Boss worked. Everything was for the dream, for the greater sum of the fucked up parts. Every death, every recruit, every lost limb and every forgotten name were all contributors to what Big Boss wanted. He knew that, back in MSF, but he didn’t consider if he’d be just another soldier contributing to the cause. Apparently, he was.

Kaz stops in front of his quarters and takes a breath. He hasn’t been paying attention but his body feels like it’s on overdrive and he can hear the pounding of his own heart in his ears. The feeling vaguely reminds him of meeting Big Boss for the first time that time in Colombia, too young to know anything but defeat, and instead of enraging him it nearly makes him collapse.

He uncomfortably leans on the door in order to open it. He lets go of his cane for a moment, which clatters to the floor soon after hitting him in between his leg and his prosthetic. The anger in his gut rises faster than he can process it and he can’t help but feel like he’d rather be dead right now. Before he can pick up the damn cane and snap it in half, a voice all too familiar wraps around his subconscious like a vice.

“Want me to help?” He stiffens and doesn’t look back because he doesn’t want to see into the face of a broken man anymore. It’s painful just to hear his voice because he can barely remember his old one, his  _ real _ one, the one he’d use while treating Kaz’s wounds in the infirmary with a gentleness that was unheard of among soldiers. He wants to get angry again at the fact Boss even stole the man’s voice from him but he doesn’t have the energy to get angry, not anymore.

“You don’t have to, I just…” Snake places the cane in his hand before he can finish his sentence. “Boss, really—“ The words feel disgusting in his mouth but it’s impossible to stop them from slipping out either way. 

“Rain got to you?” Kaz shifts his weight back onto his shoes as Snake opens the door to his dimly lit quarters. Finally he turns his gaze to the man beside him and somehow he looks like a stranger out of his sneaking suit. Of course, Ocelot had probably been meticulous in making him Big Boss’s pristine physical copy, but there was something different. His eye was softer, the scars were deeper but somehow framed him in a way that didn’t make him intimidating. He stood proudly but not the way Boss used to, more intimate in a way rather than a strong figurehead. And, most importantly, when did he get so damn tall? 

“...Yeah, something like that. Seems like it got to you too.” The comment makes a chuckle rise from Snake and Kaz can’t help but escape in a small laugh too. He steps inside but doesn’t expect the legendary soldier to follow suit, closing the door behind him slowly. The room was dark, just like Kaz preferred, but it made Snake look like a giant. Snake wasn’t one for surprises or for subtlety and a younger, less rugged Kaz would have teased him for an attempt at seduction and how if he really wanted to follow him into a room he could have just asked, but now he can’t even find the courage to look at him.

“Soldiers told me you looked worried. Distant,” his voice drops to a softer tone, one reserved for these little moments when they were alone, “you can tell me.” 

This felt  _ wrong.  _ Poor bastard was a misguided monster, an amalgamation of memories and scraps of a man who was more legend than human. Ocelot was his creator, yes, but Kaz’s role in the plot was to guide him, tame him into a soldier. How could he play pretend now with a man so  _ concerned? _

“I’m fine. Something got my nerves,” he hisses. He’s being unreasonable and he knows it. It wasn’t Snake’s fault (and it still feels wrong to call him that instead of Boss), but it was easier to put the blame on him and just move on. With enough luck he’d get the hint but lately Kaz isn’t a lucky man.

“You know you’re a bad liar, right?” Kaz hears a sigh from his back. “Be honest. I’m not going to force it out of you, but—” 

“Phantoms.” He gives him an answer before he can finish his sentence. His undying persistence to be a pain in his ass would have bothered him already if he wasn’t so busy trying to not lose his shit over betrayal from the only person he had trusted in years. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Let me help you.” The response makes Kaz turn to him in shock. “You’ve been working so hard lately. Let me lighten your load a bit.”

“I don’t think—“ He wants to yell at him and treat him like an ordinary soldier, scream until there’s nothing left to look at but he can’t. Something just won’t click no matter how hard he tries and the words come out gentler than he intends them to be. The embarrassment flushes his cheeks and it only makes him more tempted to order Snake out but the man takes a step forward.

“Just let me.”  _ Let me? _ Snake is quiet for a few seconds, awaiting his response obediently. Ocelot had trained him well; at this point Venom Snake was just another name for D.D., a loyal dumb dog with no where to go. Kaz wouldn’t have done this to him and it hurts all the more when he nods and gives in to what he wants. He gives him a smile, a real one that Kaz has never seen on Big Boss’s face, and he walks closer, staining the floor underneath him with dark footprints. He was going to ruin the floor like that. “Remember when I first brought you back to base?”

“What’s that got to do with this?” He means for it to come out like a warning but he barely notices he’s on the verge of tears even if his eyes were completely dry.

“Just relax, Kaz. Let me take care of it.” And by ‘it’ he means  _ him _ . Snake is directly in front of him now and he takes Kaz’s hand in his flesh one, gently grabbing the cane with the other. He guides Kaz to sit on the bed and his mechanical hand sets his cane beside him. “Seems like just yesterday that I saw you again for the first time.”

Kaz chooses to stay silent as the other man takes his beret and overcoat off of him. Snake was never this talkative but it was better than nothing, or at least Kaz accidentally running his mouth and saying the wrong thing. He folds the coat gently (it’s a shitty fold but Kaz doubts he has clothes that aren’t fatigues or sneaking suits) and sets it on a nearby desk. His hands that were always too big and too warm (were they different before the surgery?) start to undo the buttons of his black vest and Kaz notices that he’s  _ smiling _ still.

“Been a while. Remember when we used to do this every night? And every morning, too.” The vest comes off and Kaz feels unnatural just talking so casually after realizing the truth. But those days after Snake rescued him were indicative enough, weren’t they? Didn’t he always know, in the back of his mind? Big Boss wouldn’t have done this for him, even if 9 years is a long time. “You were still getting used to this.”

“Hard to get used to losing two limbs,” he breathes out. For once he wanted to forget, at least play dumb in the moment. “Getting dressed used to take me an hour and a half when you were out on missions.” 

“And now?” Snake gets to work on his tie and slips it off before Kaz can answer. His eyes are focused and hands at the ready, almost like he’s on a mission. God, that made Kaz feel like shit.

“Thirty minutes, fifteen if I’m lucky.” He struggles on the small, tiny buttons of the younger man’s button up and it’s hard to not laugh about it. One by one they pop off and Kaz feels strangely exposed; it wasn’t like Snake hadn’t seen him naked before (and even then, back at MSF he might have too, considering Kaz’s record) but it felt ...different. He wasn’t a cocky womanizer with too much hair gel anymore, he was a bitter middle aged mess missing an arm and a leg for a man who didn’t want him. He flinches as Snake’s prosthetic arm touches his chest and turns away in embarrassment.

Instead of stopping, Snake uses his other hand to pull off the shirt. His hand gently touches what’s left of Kaz’s right arm, but his fingers stop around the old stitches as if asking for permission. It takes everything in him to not kick him in the side and bark at him to leave but he doesn’t, he just simply nods and swallows thickly. Snake starts to look over his stump like it’s a medical check up and Kaz can’t take it.

“You don’t have to do this, Snake.” He forces the words out and they come in a hoarse near-whisper. It’s revolting, really, that a man has to undress him like this and not in a lustful fever. It was more like undressing a baby, which made Kaz all the more shameful, considering Snake should be a near-stranger, yet...

“I want to. Unless you want me to stop?” He freezes in response and Kaz can feel his eye burn into him but he refuses to look back. 

_ I do. I want you out of here. _

“...No, it’s fine.” The older man gives a grunt in response and his hands move down to Kaz’s belt. The clink of his metal arm and the buckle fills in the silence for a while, and soon the belt comes off and joins the rest of his discarded clothes. Then comes the laces of one of his boots and before Kaz can hiss out a warning to be careful with the other one, it happens so quickly and so gently he can’t register the fact both of them are off. He swallows his…(anger? sadness?) feelings down his throat and gives a heavy sigh instead. Snake puts a red hand behind his back to push him towards his chest as his other one lifts him just high enough to slip off his pants. “I’ll-”

“Relax.” There’s that word again. As much as he wants to get angry about it, he can’t, and he follows orders. Snake gives a grateful hum and traces his thumb along the curve of his leg stump where it met his crude prosthetic. He’s delicate with the straps and the damn thing slides off, revealing red blotches of irritation and pain in its wake. “Does it hurt?”

“What?” The question is genuine. Never before had he been asked that question, at least not by someone who wasn’t a medic.

“Your leg.” His fingers ghost around the inflamed areas but they don’t quite touch, like he’s afraid of inflicting pain. “Does it hurt?” Part of him wants to tell him to not go after he’s done, to stay and cuddle like they’ve just spent the night together, but it feels dirty and unwanted. Another part of him wants him to leave already and leave Kaz to cry alone, but that doesn’t come out either. Kaz doesn’t respond for a few seconds but he finally pushes a reply past his lips.

“Just dress me already.” 

Snake nods and reaches for one of his drawers where he knows Kaz’s clothes are, folded into neat squares. He pulls out a pair of comfortable sweatpants and unfolds them, lifting them to Kaz’s legs. He reluctantly slides his remaining leg in and lets Snake pull them up over his stump and up to his hips. Next comes a breathable shirt (with no buttons, thank God) and Snake spreads it so that Kaz’s head can slip in and he can drag the rest over his torso, taking special care with his missing arm and the scars that line his chest.

“Hey, Boss?” Kaz clears his throat and Snake’s eyebrows rise. “Thanks. I mean it.”

“I know.” He gives him another smile and it’s like Kaz’s world is crashing down around him. It’s hard to believe this…  _ thing  _ could care for him like this, a good for nothing soldier with nothing to believe in except for bitterness and hatred. Could he be capable of that? Of caring for him back, of meeting him when he lands, of shielding him from Big Boss and supporting him when he eventually finds out? It feels like a decision Kaz has already taken, and the tears that fill his eyes are too big to swallow down.

“Kaz…” His voice was a soft whisper and Kaz can’t help the tears that stain his sunglasses and stream down his face. He chokes on his own spit, breathing heavily as he cries. He hasn’t cried since Afghanistan, not since the loss of his limbs, but something in him says he’s stopped crying long before that too. Before the fall of MSF and before his mother forgot about him completely, he stored his tears like a well, and they all seemed to fall tonight.

“Don’t fucking look at me, don’t,” The words come out harsher than he wants them to and he sounds like he’s begging, but Snake experimentally wraps his arms around the younger man. He seems unsure of what to do at first but eventually he pulls Kaz closer to rest on his chest, who stains his black shirt with snot and tears and a million words he would never dare say out loud. 

“It’s alright. It’s going to be alright.”  _ You don’t know a thing. _

For a few minutes the room was filled with nothing but the sound of Kaz’s muffled sobs and Snake’s quiet reassurances. He couldn’t stop asking the older man for forgiveness, some way to repent for what he’s done, but Snake never stopped his mantra of reassuring words, leaving his apologies unanswered.

After a bit, Kaz finally calmed down, breathing in and out heavily against his wide chest. Snake never loosened up his grip on him but he shifted his hand to Kaz’s hair, running his fingers through it occasionally to soothe him. Now it really did look like he was taking care of a child, not the other way around like Kaz was supposed to be doing. But tonight he was no Commander, he was no Master, just a broken man crying into a phantom.

In the time that he laid his head against the other man, Kaz began to realize something. Snake is not Boss, because Boss wouldn’t smile so naturally, but he wonders if Snake  _ needs _ to be Big Boss. Maybe for the Diamond Dogs, or for Ocelot, but for  _ him?  _

“I’m sorry,” Kaz manages to whisper. He wants to say something more but nothing comes out and he silently lifts his head, still breathing heavily from the event. Snake doesn’t say anything for a while and Kaz wonders if he’s fucked up, finally taken enough of his concern and care to be rendered a mess up.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s alright.” Snake moves to sit at Kaz’s right side, shifting the weight on the bed. “Are you…?”

“Yeah.” Kaz’s throat hurts and his face is stained and his sunglasses are foggy and he’s so _ tired _ . It feels like he’s cried for hours, possibly the whole night, and the sun would come on the horizon to remind him of his failures. “Do me one last favor.”

“What is it?”

“Get me over to the desk.” Kaz sighs and rolls his shoulder towards the direction of a tower of paperwork and discarded pens. He begins to put his weight on his remaining leg and tries to stand up, but a firm hand on his shoulder pulls him back down. 

“You should get some rest. It’s been a long day.” ‘Should’ was used rather liberally, but they both knew it was an order. Kaz grunts under his breath and lets Snake keep him there on the bed, giving another heavy sigh. He isn’t feeling rebellious today but he can feel his future self spewing curses in the morning for leaving the paperwork for tomorrow.

“What about you?” 

“Maybe I’ll help more men undress.” Kaz can’t tell if he’s joking or not because he doesn’t make any indication of it and he just finished sobbing like a baby on his chest for God’s sake, but he ends up laughing anyway. Snake chuckles too and everything feels so much lighter, and for once Kaz pushes aside his worries and pleas and pains to focus on the man in front of him.

Venom Snake is not Big Boss, and he will never be. He can look just like him and make the same occasional grunts and be just as legendary on the battlefield, but he would always be his own man. Cautious, concerned,  _ gentle _ , those were words Kaz would never use to describe Big Boss. But he doesn’t  _ have  _ to be Big Boss, not for Kaz. He is just fine, just like this.

“You can stay, you know. I’m not kicking you out.” He offers him a small smile, and maybe it’s because he’s hazy from crying or tired or just plain done with being a coward. He moves over so that he’s laying down on the bed and slides under the thin covers, not waiting for Snake’s reaction. He takes off his sunglasses and puts them on the bedside drawer, raising a brow as Snake doesn’t move from his place. “Don’t just sit there and look pretty. If you’re gonna stay, come lay down. You make me feel like you’re watching me.”

Snake doesn’t reply but he does give another one of those half chuckles and stands up. Kaz worries he’s going to leave and he’s wagered everything on nothing, but he walks over to the opposite side of Kaz’s bed wordlessly. “Boots off,” Kaz mumbles and he can hear two consecutive clunks against the hardwood floor. The bed shifts again with Snake’s added weight when he rolls onto the mattress, facing Kaz with a tired eye. Looks like he wasn’t the only one dying to relax. “You’re not taking off your shirt?”   
  


“I’ve had worse things on me than some snot and tears.”

“You’re going to dirty the only sheets I’ve got.” Within a few seconds that’s off too and Kaz forgot what his chest looked like. So many missions and work and managing the burger joint in America that this was the first time in a long time that they had any moment alone, finally with no curious Russian cat following them with bright eyes and open ears. He's still as toned as ever and stitches line his abdomen and chest, curving like snakes around him. There's scars but they're almost pretty, framing him in a way that made Kaz too warm on a cold bed. He feels like a teenager, getting flustered over another man’s chest, but he’s too exhausted to think about it.

“‘Night, Kaz.”

“Goodnight.”

Before Kaz can overthink his way into insomnia, Snake’s steady breaths cut his thoughts and lead him to a peace he hasn’t had in years. He finds himself relaxed, more than ever, and he can barely remember why he was crying earlier. After 9 long years and some months, he felt safe, and he didn’t even know why.

The next morning, Snake is not by his side, but he leaves a note.  _ Had to go, emergency mission.  _ Kaz rolls his eyes when he sees it, mumbling about how that was obvious, but his chest grew warm and he smiled, genuinely, with no regrets.


End file.
